The cake recipe
by Pure heart 27
Summary: Mycroft finds out that his favorite cake recipe has been changed and he is not happy about it. However he might be feeling something other than contempt for the new baker. And hopefully each chapter will have Mycroft do something cool with his awesome umbrella :) Mycroft/OC
1. Chapter 0

Chapter 0

He sat in his office doing paper work. Been there since early this morning, feeling like he was getting no where, no matter how much he did. It was late afternoon when his secretary knocked on his door.

"Yes, come in,"

She walked in to his office caring a bag, a bag which he already knew the contents of. He let himself sigh and smile only a moment when she put it on his desk.

"I knew you were having a long week, so I dropped by that place you like"

"I thought I told you that I was cutting back?"

"You did sir, but every once in a while is good for you" She smiled knowing full well that he wasn't going to refuse it.

"Fine, tell me what we know about how Sherlock is doing as I take a brake from this mind dulling paperwork."

His secretary began to make tea and tell Mycroft about the new cases that Sherlock and John were working on. None in the least interested him. How boring. Mycroft pulled out his favorite piece of double chocolate cake from the bag. After a long hard week of boring paper work this would help him relax. However, when he took the fist bit he was more than a little mortified. His whole face turn pale white and doped his fork in shock. His secretary turned to him at once.

"Sir? Are you alright?" She looked at the cake. "Was it...poisoned..?" she rushed to his side, but he shewed her away with the waved of his hand.

"Its worse... someone changed the recipe of the cake."

 **Author's note:** Hey, so this just came out of my friend and I talking about Mycroft and his love for cake and umbrellas. This is just something fun to write nothing serious. Have fun :) 


	2. Chapter 1

**Note: sorry for the people that read the unedited version. I had 2 copies of the same thing and uploaded the wrong one. There will still be spelling and other errors. Because I wrote it for fun and didn't looked to deep into it. Editing always take the fun out of it for me lol But I understand peoples frustration with wrong and misspelled words. I hope you still have fun reading it though. I had fun writing it.**

Chapter 1

Mycroft stormed in to the small bakery, huffing a little. He really shouldn't have walked across the street so fast, but he was in a hurry and he couldn't park right next to the store like he always did because of a horrible little gray van parked in his way. This day was turning out to be tedious indeed.

Mycroft noticed the changes to the store right away. The tables and chairs were moved into a different arrangement, it was more effective for the flow of traffic. Also the some of the broken chair were now fix. And there were new paintings on the walls.

Mycroft walked right past the 5 other people inline to the front. "I need to speak with your manager." he said at the young lady at the register. He could hear some of the people inline complaining about him skipping ahead. Goldfish...

He thought

"Um I'm sorry sir, but you can't skip the line" said the 22 year old law student, working here and 2 other jobs to pay her tuition. He didn't have time for this.

"I found a razorblade in my cake and I'm suing you" Mycroft turned to leave but the girl stopped him. "Ah! wait sir, I'll go get my manager, could you wait over there please?" she pointed to the table off to the right of him near the window. Mycroft just gave her a curt nod and sat at the table. Two people left that were inline. One because he was late for a meeting he didn't remember he had and the other because she had thought the razorblade story was true. Another gentleman come over to him to ask if his story was true. He simply told the mad that if indeed it was true that he should look before he eat anymore cake. The man went pale and also left the store. Mycroft didn't feel bad one bit, one because he really didn't know how and two because the man was spouse to be on a diet with his wife, but he was cheating on her with sweets every chance he got. Mycroft pinched the bride his nose. People were so boring and ordinary.

He wait 7.5 minutes before a women 5.6 height, 155 ponds, 35 years old, black hair in a messy bun, tired blue eyes, little make up, white bakers uniform, flour on her hands and face. She walked over to him wiping her hands on a towel. Mycroft stood as she came closer and took the hand she held out, even though it still had flour on it from baking. "Page" she said.

Last name.

"Homes" he said in reply. They shook hands and he motioned for her to sit, which she did, opposite side of him. "So you gave my employee a fright" she said "she thinks you are going to sue us for a what was it again?" she pretended to think about it. "A razorblade..." her words were laced with contentment. Mycroft just sat there, leg crossed over the other one hand on his umbrella the other rest on his knee. "I don't appreciate people coming in here giving false accusations and scaring my employee." her hand on the table was clenched and her eyes hard.

"No, I don't spouse you do." said Mycroft, in a matter a fact tone. She looked confused. Mycroft knew she came out her ready to have a fight, and a fight she was going to have. But not about the fake story. "I do apologize for getting you out here under false pretenses, however the subject I wish to discuss it of the up most importance."

Her hand became a little undone and she lead back in her chair. "and what would that be?" she asked.

"Someone changed the recipe for the chocolate cake." he said. Her eyes widened a faction but didn't say anything. Mycroft went on. "I was away on business for two moth and 3 days, in that time you have bought the place from the previous owner and baker Fred White. You have kept the same name, yet hired all new employees and changed the look of the décor. And you have changed the recipe of the chocolate cake that has been the same over 10 years. Why would you changed the recipe? You bought all his recipes when you bought the place. So why changed something that did not need changing?"

Page look baffled for a moment then crossed her arms and bit her lip, her eye bows came together as if she was trying to sort something out. Mycroft just stared at her. After a moment past she leaned in, arms still crossed, looking Mycroft in the eye and simply said "I made it better" and leaned back in her chair.

Mycroft flinched but kept his composer. "Are you so vain that you think you can improve on something that has been made for ten years?"

She gave him have a smirk, "yes"

"You are gravely mistaken" he said to her.

"Did you try it?" she asked

"Of course, I would be here if I didn't" he answered

"What did you think?" she asked

"It wasn't the same" he said simply

"Did you like it?"

"No"

"Why?"

Mycroft was getting irritated by all the questions. "Because it wasn't the same"

"so you dismissed it because it wasn't the same? Did you even teased it?"

"Well obviously, or I wouldn't have known it was different."

she sighed and got up. "please wait here." she left without a response from Mycroft. When she came back she had a chocolate cake on a plate with one fork. She place it in front of him.

"Try it again"

"Mycroft looked at the cake and at her. "I refuse, I know what it tastes like already. Or did you not understand our conversation?"

"Oh I understand alright. I understand that you refuse to give my cake a fair short because you think it should taste like something else. You're prejudice against my cake."

"You can't be prejudice against an inanimate object."

"Well apparently you can, because you are"

There was a chime of the bell, the door slamming against the wall and a man yelling took Mycroft's and Page's attention away from their augment.

"Haley!" the man yelled, stumbling in the store.

"Jorge…" Page said next to Mycroft.


	3. Chapter 2

"You're not welcome here anymore" Page said, she went to move towards Jorge but a something caught her by the elbow. She looked and saw Mr. Homes umbrella handle.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you" said Mycroft very low so no one else would hear.

Page looked confused, then she heard the screams and yells of her customers. She turned back to Jorge who now was holding up a gun. The people in line went to the floor like if it was a bank robbery. But it wasn't, Page knew what he wanted, why he was here. She glance over to the front counter and saw Haley hiding behind it. It was mostly see through, there was no way Jorge wouldn't see her.

Jorge started yelling at the people on the floor telling them to move one way of the other, waving his gun ever which way. He moved to the counter and Page took a step to move in front of him, but again got stopped. This time by Mr. Homes hand pulling her back.

"you're going to get yourself killed if you do that" he said, voice still very low.

"I don't care," Page replied, just as quiet. "I only care about Haley" she tired to remove his hand with hers, but it didn't budge. She looked right at Mycroft. His body was turned to her, his right hand on her arm and his umbrella in his other hand "let go" she hissed, trying again to move, but failed.

"Listen," he said, making eye contact. "you see, but you do not observe." He glanced over to Jorge, who had made it to the counter. He was crouch down and trying to talk to Haley through the glass. He looked like a mess. Blood shoot eyes, tear stain cheeks, hair flopped mostly in his face. His clothes were a ripped t shirt that matched his holy jeans and shoes that were practically falling apart.

"He looks like hell," said Page, "makes sense though, they broke up a few days ago"

Mycroft got closer to her ear ."Listen," he said again, moving his head back to Jorge was.

Page listen to what Jorge was saying. He kept saying how much he loved Haley and how they could try again. Make it work this time. All the things Page has heard before from Jorge. But then he started saying how everything was 'her' fault, that if it wasn't for 'her' they would have been happy, they would be happy again without 'her'.

"He blames me…" Page said.

"It would seem so." said Mycroft, "he is going to try to kill you"

"What have I done to him?" Page asked annoyed.

"I assume that you encouraged the young lady to brake all engagements with the troubled lad."

"Ahh, yes, that I did..." said Page.

A man in his 30's stood up from the ground and walked slowly over to Jorge with his hands in the air. Jorge turned around slowly his back and head still on the glass, gun still limp in his hand on the ground.

"I'm James," said the man, "I can see you're not a bad guy, so how about letting us go?"

"Well he's going to get us all killed" said Mycroft.

"Least he's trying to help" said Page.

"He's an idiot" replied Mycroft.

"James…" Jorge slurred his name. "Why are you here?"

James looked confused. "Well I -"

Jorge interrupted him. "you're here to flirt with Haley" Jorge pointed the gun at James. "You're here to take her away from me!" He yelled stumbling to get off the floor.

James slowing back a couple feet away, "no, no man. I'm not, I swear."

"Told you." Said Mycroft.

"How do we get out of this without someone getting hurt?" Asked Page.

Mycroft let go of her arm and looked at her curiously. "you don't seem alarmed, so I'm figuring you have been in a situation before... maybe a more than once?" he stared at Page but she didn't answer. So he moved on "Why should I help you? You ruined my favorite cake."

Page scrunched up her face. "This is still about the CAKE?" Page practically yelled at him. Which got the attention of Jorge.

"YOU! You took Haley away from me!" Jorge had turned away from James to Page. James took the opportunity to slowly go back to the floor, trying to be part of the tile floor.

Page flipped her head to Jorge. "Shut up Jorge!" She yelled and turned back to Mycroft. "You won't help because of cake?! You have got to be kidding me"

"It was my favorite." Mycroft said simply.

"Don't ignore me!" Jorge yelled.

But Page did indeed ignore him and continue to talk to Mycroft. "so you'd like people die because of cake? "

"People die every day, good cake is extremely hard to come by" said Mycroft.

Page made a face at him. She turned her head when she heard Jorge cocked back the gun. He had the gun a couple

inches from her head. "I'll make you a deal" she said.

"You have nothing I want" said Jorge.

"I'll find the recipe and make you the cake"

Jorge looked confused" what are you talking about? I don't want cake! I want you gone!" He yelled. Pushing the gun to her temple.

"Deal" is all Mycroft said before he went into action. It was so fast Page barley knew what happened. Poor Jorge had no clue.

Mycroft moved the gun up with one hand, it went off, but it was aimed at the ceiling. In less than a second Mycroft hit Jorge in the throat with his umbrella handle. He stumbled backwards clutching his throat. Jorge tried to point the gun at them again, but Mycroft was too fast. He was already in his space, holding Jorge's gun hand up.

"I should be thanking you Jorge," Mycroft whispered, he pointed his umbrella at Jorge, he push a button on the handle and it sent an electric shook through Jorge's body. He fell on the hard ground twitching. Mycroft then turned to Page. "I'll be in later to collect on our deal." he said before calmly walking out the door.

* * *

 **Note: sorry for the people that read the unedited version of chapter 1. I had 2 copies of the same thing and uploaded the wrong one. There will still be spelling and other errors. Because I wrote it for fun and didn't looked to deep into it. Editing always take the fun out of it for me lol But I understand peoples frustration with wrong and misspelled words. I hope you still have fun reading it though. I had fun writing it :)**


	4. Chapter 3

It had been a couple days since the incident with Jorge. Everything felt like a blur right after it happened. Mr. Homes people came in and took care of Jorge and made Page and everyone that was there sign a non disclosure agreement. Stating that if they didn't say anything to anyone, including the police, that the incident never happened. Page and some of her costumers thought it strange and didn't want to at first. Until they said that they would take care of all the costumers unpaid parking tickets. Page thought that maybe she should have asked more questions about it all, she usually wasn't one to keep quiet. But there was something about Mr. Homes and his people that told her that maybe for this moment to be compliant and not say a word.

Page head the door open with the sound of the bell. "Welcome!" she said in a cheery voice. "Be with you in one moment." Page finished putting the pastries in the see though case, then stood up to find Mr. Homes standing on the other side. "Mr. Homes," she acknowledged, her friendly smile turned more into a forced polite one. "how are you?" she asked.

"Miss Page," he acknowledged back ignoring her question. "I do believe you have something for me."

"Yes, your secretary call yesterday, said you were coming in today to pick up your order. It's in the back, please wait one moment." Page turned around and went though the door to the kitchen. When she came back out Mr. Homes was standing in the same place waiting. "Here you are Mr. Homes" Page put the box on the counter between them, praying that she made the cake close enough to the old one. "Have a good day." she smiled and tried to dismiss him. But he had non of that.

"I want to inspected the product." he said calmly.

"Of course," Page opened the small box for him. Inspect the product? Page thought. What is this, some sort of drug deal? If he cuts it up and snorts it, I'm calling the police. The mental image of Mr. Homes snorting cake came to Page's mind and she had to bite her lip so to stop herself from giggling.

"The shade of brown seems off." Mr. Homes remarked.

"Would you like to taste the product?" Page asked with a cough to cover up her sinker.

"I would" he replied quite seriously. Mr. Homes eyed the plastic fork that was beside the box with disgust. Shaking his head, he then took his umbrella, turn the handle and bushed a button that Page didn't even know was there. A half a second later the handle made a hissed and pop noise, and part of the handle came off the umbrella. Then with another pop two things flew out. Making Page jump back and hit the wall behind her. The two objects flew up in the air then came down where Mr. Homes caught them with ease. Mr. Homes took one object and put in in his collar, it turned out to be a handkerchief. The other one Page saw it was a silver fork with nice designs on it.

"You got to be kidding me…" Page mumbled. Mr. Homes ignored her and he flipped his umbrella handle closed and took a bite of cake with his fancy fork. Page knew from the face he was making that she was doomed. He took off the handkerchief and put down the fork before he spoke.

"This miss Page," he began, "is not my cake. I believe we had an agreement. You did not hold up you're end of it."

Page sighed. "My apologies, I actually don't know the recipe. And when I contacted the previous owner, he couldn't remember. His memory isn't very good, that's why he retired in the first place. "

"So you tried to trick me." his eyes went cold.

"No, I thought I could remake." she said sternly, she then took a long breathe and let it out. "When we got the place we deep cleaned it. Found a closet that they used for storage. There were about 15 boxes filled with different recipes in it. The owner and I agreed on any recipes I found I could use. So we kept the boxes in the closet for me to go though them later. However, I haven't gotten around to looking at all of them. I did find a couple chocolates cake ones the other day. I picked one and made it. This one," she pointed to the cake. "is made with milk chocolate." Page grabbed a note pad and pen from her counter. "you said that if was a different shade of brown, darker or lighter?"

"Darker."

"Alright," Page said as she made some note on her pad of paper. The chime of the bell door got both of their attention. "Welcome, be with you in one moment." Page turned her attention back to Mr. Homes to say something. But he seemed he beat her to it.

"Business calls, I understand." said Mr. Homes, "But understand this miss Page, I never give up on what I want, no matter how long It takes." he turned to leave, "I hope you pick a better one for tomorrow." then left the store.

Page quickly went to her other customer who had taken a seat at one of the tables. Page thought for some time that morning about Mr. Homes, mostly of how strange the man was and wondered why the cake was so imported to him. He was a like a small child that lost his favorite toy.


	5. Chapter 4

It was late when Mycroft went to the bakery a week later. The bakery was already closed and the door was locked. Witch didn't stop Mycroft from getting in. He picked the locked and walked inside. Most of the lights were off excepted for the little light coming from the kitchen. He walked around the counter into the kitchen, he heard rustling through the half open door at the other end of the room. He stood in the doorway watching Page sitting on the ground rummaging through a box of papers, a pen in her mouth and a pad of paper with writing on it next to her.

"You looked very engaged" said Mycroft.

Page was so startled that she though the box in the air, it landed with a thud and papers everywhere. She turned to see Mycroft. "Ohhh you son of a… how did you even get in here?" Page demanded.

"Your security is lacking." he said simply.

Page sighed and started picking up papers.

"How is my investment coming along?" Mycroft asked as he bent down and picked the one of the papers off his foot. He made a face after he read what was on it.

"Honestly slow, he has sloppy handwriting, if you can even call it that and there are a lot of boxes of pap-" Page stopped talking when she looked up to Mycroft and saw his face. She tried not to laugh. "What's wrong?"

"Why anyone would pollute a cake in such a way is just vile."

"let me see, maybe I can make it for you." Page teased as she got up from the floor to see what had made his face turn in such a way. But when she went to grab the paper in his hand he lifted his arm up out of her reach.

"I can guarantee you that this is not my cake, so you need not bother yourself with making such an abomination."

"Just show me, I won't make it then." she reached for it again but Mycroft extended his arm over his head.

"I don't believe you can be trusted." he said, struggling to keep his balance as Page invaded his personal space trying to grab the paper. "You're being very childish."

"You're being childish." said Page. Now on her tipi toes. "Just let me see." she put one hand on his elbow to lower his arm so she could reach. But he still had the upper hand.

The struggle reminded Mycroft of his childhood. When he would take something of Sherlock's and he would whine and pout about it till he gave it back. Now that he thought about it, not much has changed.

Page huffed out of frustration. "fine don't show me." she went to back away, but the forgotten box she was going though on the floor earlier caught her foot.

Mycroft could see the whole thing play out in his head before it happened. She was going to try to stop herself from falling backwards by grabbing the first thing she could. Which was the unit full of boxes. It wasn't sturdy, so when Page put her weight on it, it was going to fall on top of her.

To put a stop to it, he countered by placing his hand and all his weight on the unit at the same time Page grabbed it for support. It had stopped the unit from falling but it moved just enough for a box on the edge to fall. Mycroft knew this would happened. So he twisted his umbrella handle, flipped his wrist back and impaled the oncoming box with his sword. It right stopped right above Page's head.

Page moved quickly away from the box and sword. "Wow how many things can that thing do?" Page asked a little out of breath.

Mycroft pulled back, letting the box fall to the ground. "Many things Ms. Page." he said. He bent over for the rest of his umbrella, making another face as he stood up.

"Are you okay?" Page asked

Mycroft sighed. "I am not as young as I use to be." he replied. Page opened her mouth to say something, but before she could she sneezed rather loud. Mycroft thought she sounded like a small guinea pig.

"Excuse me," she said, her hands over her face, clearly embarrassed.

"You're allergic to cats." Mycroft stated.

"What?" Page asked looking confused.

"The redness in your eyes and puffiness in your face."

"But I don't have cats"

Mycroft step closer to her and reached out a hand to her. She looked skeptical, but didn't move. He pick something off her shoulder and then held it up for her to see. It was a cats hair. "You may want to tell your employees that they can not borrow your apron."

"How did you do that?" Page looked astonished.

"I see what other cannot," Mycroft stepped back "I will come back another time" Mycroft turned to leave.

"Next time don't brake into my place." Page said.

Mycroft didn't turn around. "Maybe I wont, if you update your security." he walked away, crumpling the paper he had in his hand. Whoever thought about putting pickle juice in a chocolate cake is seriously deranged.

…..

Weeks past as Mycroft continued to brake in to Page's bakery every few days. She had updated her security, but that didn't stop Mycroft from making it look like child's play. Page still hadn't found the recipe for the cake, however she did make a lot of different combinations to figure it out. None of them work though. Most of them Mycroft didn't even try, said he could just tell by looking at it. Others he tried and make a face. Page knowing full well that meant she'd have to try again. One day Page brought up the fact that she couldn't keep making cakes that he didn't pay for. She didn't have the revenue stream to just make whatever she wanted. So Mycroft started paying for the whole cake even if he didn't eat a piece or take any with him. After that Page seemed almost happy about him coming in.

The next time Mycroft came to her shop it was the early in the afternoon, yet it had a 'closed for the day' sign on it. He of course ignored it and broke in her place with ease. He walked over the counter where an envelop with 'Mr. Homes' on it lay. He pick it up and read the note.

Dear Mr. Homes,

I figured you would ignore my closed sign and brake in, so I left this note. Today I have prior engagements to attend to and will not be in. Feel free to look for the recipe yourself though, make my life easier ;)

"She did not just put a winky face..." Mycroft rolled his eyes. "What is she 13?" he said to no one but himself. He phone buzzed and he answered. "Ah yes, I will be back to the office soon. My errand became a little longer than predicted."

….

The wedding reception was outside under tents. Mycroft saw her easily though the crowed of people. She was cutting cut for the bride and groom, next to a table with a tall 4 tier wedding cake. Her appearance was the complete opposite of her regular day to day life in her bakery. Instead of her messy bun, dirty baker's uniform and comfortable shoes. She had her hair tied tight in a bun, no hair out of place with a silver pin sticking out. Her baker's uniform was new with no stains or winkle. And her height was increased by the 3 inch heels. She embody a professional baker the way she cut the cake with precision, swift gentle movements that were full of confidence.

After Page was done cutting and serving the cake to the guests, she made her way over to Mycroft. She had spotted him sometime in the middle of serving, she only cocked her head to the side slightly, sighed, then continued on.

"It's not chocolate, but I think you might enjoy it." Page said as she handed him a plate with a piece of cake on it.

Mycroft took it with a rise eyebrow, then took a bite of it but didn't say anything.

"Hard day huh," it wasn't a question.

He stopped a fork full of food half way to his mouth. "how do you deduce that?" he asked.

She stood next to him and only turned her head. "I'm not sure. You just seem..." she paused looking for the right word. "Tired..."

"Tired?"

Page shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I could be wrong, I don't see you other than when you come in my shop. But some days when you do come in, your leaning on your umbrella heavily. Or leaning against a wall or door jamb." Mycroft couldn't disagree with that statement. Actually he had just been leaning on his umbrella a moment ago and when he got the cake he stared to lean on the church building they were next to. So Mycroft didn't say anything and let Page continue. "And even though my cakes isn't the cake you want, some days it looks like that's all you had to eat. You always have this look of satisfaction when you take the fist bite, just like the one you just had on your face."

Mycroft couldn't argue with that either, so he turned away from her and put anther bite of cake in his mouth. He was tired, it seemed like he was becoming more tired lately. Mycroft had more boring paper work and meetings to go to than ever. There was no puzzle to his work right now, he felt like his brain was wasting away. Maybe that's way he was here. Comfort, he needed comfort, and his was always found in the sweet things in life. Even though not his favorite, Page's baking turned out to be quite good. Well good enough for the moment.

Since Mycroft didn't wish to comment on anything that she had said he choose to change the subject. "You don't seem surprise to see me here" he said.

Page had turned her head to him and then back to the crowd of people and shrugged. "I figured that you were find me with ease if you went looking. You seem like a very smart man…" she turn to him, "Though I am curious how."

"You have been working on the design for the cake for some time now. It's in you drawing pad at work. You leave it open a lot. And you left your calendar at the bakery. I may have taken a look."

Page just stared at him and smiled. Mycroft gave her a puzzle expression. She just shook her head and took his empty plate and gave him hers. "Here," she said, "You probably haven't eaten yet." He continued to look at her with the same puzzled expression. "Don't worry Mr. Homes, it's not poisoned, and two pieces of cake isn't going to kill you." she turned and started to walk away.

"Mycroft."

Page turned around. "What?"

"My name is Mycroft." he said simply.

"Oh...um Elisabeth." she said pointing to herself. "I mean most people call me Lizzy…"

"Elisabeth it is." he said.

Elisabeth Page smiled big and turned a very flattering shade of pink. "Right," she said, now playing with the bottom of her uniform. "I should get back to help pack the cake."

Mycroft simply nodded his head and she left. He stared at the untouched cake for a moment, sighed and mumbled "how troublesome.." before eating the whole piece.

….

Mycroft looked at his clock. He needed to head back to the office, he was already late. He headed his empty plate to a near by waiter. He then proceeded to leave when he heard a blood curdling scream. He turned and saw the bride running from the church building she was in. Her hands and her dazzling white dress covered in crimson. Blood. Mycroft knew it from sight. He may not be always be around it like his younger brother, but he knew what blood looked liked even from a distance.

He watched as guests flocked to her side, asking stupid questions. Obviously there had been a murder with the bride repeating the same thing over again. "She killed her, she killed her!" through her uncontrollable sobbing. Mycroft scanned the crown and inwardly sighed. He walked around the guests that were hovering over the bride and made he way inside the building. He heard raised voices coming from down the hall.

"You killed her, didn't you?!" a man's voice yelled.

"I didn't I swear!" a women's voice, the only woman he knew here. Elisabeth Page.

He followed the voices to a big open kitchen. He instantly saw the dead body laying on the floor. Woman in her 50's, multiple stab wounds, six to be accurate. Crime of anger. Thought Mycroft.

"You'll pay for what you did!" said the man to Mycroft's left, tears rolling over his face. Mycroft saw him lunged for Page, pushed her up against the double door refrigerator. He had his large hands around her throat, lifting her off the ground.

Mycroft moved swiftly. He hit the man's elbow with his umbrella, then rammed the handle into his face, braking his nose and making him stumble backwards on the floor. Page gasped for air and fell to her feet, hands on her throat. Mycroft arm wrapped around Page's waist automatically when she stared to fall to the ground. Her breathing was ragged and she coughed into Mycroft's shoulder as she tried to catch her breathe.

"I didn't…" she tried to say in between gasps.

"I know." said Mycroft.

"You son of a… you broke my nose." the man on the ground started getting up, holding his bloody nose.

I don't have time for this. Thought Mycroft. He rotated his umbrella handle and pointed the end on it at the man.

"What do you think you'll do with that thing?" he started to walk towards them.

Mycroft pushed a button on his handle and 3 cables shot of out the point of the umbrella. Each wrapping around the massive man. One around this upper arms, one around middle and wrists. The last one around his knees, knocking him back down to the ground.

"It would be in you're best interest if you stay still and quiet." he tone was low and tense. Mycroft led Page out in to the hall and saw someone very familiar walking towards them. The man stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Mycroft. "John Watson." Mycroft acknowledge.

"M-Mycroft?" he asked, surprised to see him there.

 **-Note- Who does't like an old fashion murder? :)**


End file.
